Putting it right
by Barcardivodka
Summary: Lucas North sat opposite Harry Pearce in the warehouse and confessed to being John Bateman. He wasn't expecting Harry to tell him that he was wrong! (my attempt to right series 9)
1. Chapter 1

**_Notes:_**

 ** _Correcting Series 9 aka Lucas lives._**

 ** _All events happened in episodes 1 to 8 up to the conversation Lucas has with Harry in the warehouse._**

* * *

Lucas North sat at the table, the only piece of furniture in the dilapidated warehouse, and waited. He waited for Harry to arrive. He waited to be judged. He waited to be arrested for treason.

He took a deep, shaky breath at the thought of being confined once more. An interrogation cell at Thames House, or a prison cell at Belmarsh. A cell was a cell and Lucas knew he couldn't face being imprisoned in one for the rest of his life. It would be a far cry from any Russian prison, but his soul would wither and die just the same.

His only hope was to convince Harry to let him rescue Maya from Edwards and give the Chinese what they wanted. He and Maya could then flee. Start a life together somewhere new.

Lucas closed his eyes as the bitter bite of betrayal burned its way through him. He had always been loyal to Harry, to Queen and Country. He had fought hard on his return from Russia to prove his loyalty and now he had thrown it all away. His past had come back to haunt him. To rip this borrowed life of Lucas North from him and restore his true self. A man who would commit murder for the thrill and excitement of it and who would certainly betray anyone for money and power.

Lucas looked up as footsteps echoed across the cavernous space to see Harry striding towards him. Harry sat down on the opposite side of the table his eyes never leaving Lucas as he did so. His face was expressionless, giving nothing away. Lucas knew first hand that Harry was a master interrogator. It wasn't going to be easy to tell Harry only half truths and keep his dangerous secrets to himself.

"Lucas," Harry said by way of a greeting. He placed a slim file on the table. "What's going on?" he asked, his voice neutral, giving nothing away.

It was an opening for a full confession. It was chance for Lucas to explain to Harry why he had been behaving out of character. To explain who Vaughn Edwards was and why Lucas had stabbed him in the leg in full view of a park full of children. To confess setting up a young junior office as a fall guy and allowing a young American computer technician to bleed to death in his arms.

Lucas placed both hands on the table and looked at Harry. He didn't want to do this. He didn't want to see the look of disappointment and betrayal on Harry's face. He didn't want to confess that he had planted the Dakar bomb that killed 17 people. That was his old life. He wanted to keep being Lucas North. He didn't want to go back to being who he once was. He had no choice though. Lucas North was someone else. He'd lived their life long enough.

"My name isn't Lucas North," he looked down at his hands, he couldn't hold Harry's gaze. "My name's John … Bateman," he haltingly confessed.

Lucas had expected Harry to react to his admission in any number of ways, anger mainly. It had never crossed his mind that it would be greeted by silence. He looked up, to see Harry smiling sadly at him.

"I'm afraid that's not true, Lucas," Harry said. "You are, and have always been, Lucas North."

"Harry … that's … I'm John Bateman. I met Lucas when we were in Dakar. I stole his identity. I became him when I … when he died." Lucas explained.

Harry flipped open the file and pushed two photographs towards him. Each showed a young man, both similar in features and colouring. One was Lucas North, the other was John Bateman.

"This is you, isn't it?" Harry asked, tapping one of the photographs.

Lucas nodded.

"This," Harry tapped the other photograph, "is John Bateman."

"That's not right, Harry," Lucas shook his head in bewilderment. "I took Lucas' place at MI5. He had sent in his application and was accepted for interview and testing. I took all the tests. I did the interview. Not Lucas."

Harry pushed several photocopied forms in front of Lucas. "This is Lucas' handwritten application form."

Lucas looked the pages over and nodded. Frowning at the signature at the bottom of the last page. Harry pushed another piece of paper in front of him, covered in neat, precise handwriting.

"Can you identify what this is?" Harry asked.

"It's a copy of my field notes from the surveillance on the suspected hate group last week," Lucas confirmed. "Harry what has this…"

"Compare the two, Lucas."

Lucas gave Harry a puzzled frown, but did as he asked. The handwriting was the same on both documents. Lucas looked up at Harry to find the older man holding out a pen.

"Sign your name," he ordered.

Lucas took the pen, turned over the piece of paper that had his field notes on them and wrote his signature. With trepidation he compared it to the signature on the application form. It was a perfect match.

"Harry, I don't understand. I'm John Bateman." His voice shook with confusion.

"John Bateman was in Dakar at the same time as you." Harry confirmed. "He is also assumed to be the man that planted the bomb in the British Embassy. We knew he was working with Vaughn Edwards at the time," he explained. "Bateman was arrested in Russia for entering the country illegally and drug smuggling. He was sentenced to 25 years in prison. He died six years after you were detained."

Lucas shook his head. "Harry I … I remember planting the bomb in the embassy. I killed Lucas North. I … I have to be John Bateman. The things I remember … I..." He rubbed his forehead as he frowned down at the table. Nothing made sense any more. Why was Harry so insistent that he was Lucas North. Harry wouldn't lie, not about this. Was it some form of interrogation trick? To make Lucas confess? But he'd just done that, confessed to the bombing, to murdering North. He looked up at Harry who met his gaze, There was no condemnation on his face, no disgust, just concern. If he was John Bateman, surely Harry wouldn't have let them go unchallenged. Pain stabbed at this temples. He tried to remember his childhood, his time at university.

"Maya." He said into the silence.

"Maya Lahan," Harry nodded. "Born 20th September 1975 in York. Studied medicine at Leeds University. Currently working as a consultant in A&E at the Royal Bloomsbury hospital in London." Harry reeled off.

"She's real. I do know her. We went to university together," Lucas smiled with relief.

"I'm afraid not, Lucas," Harry said gently.


	2. Chapter 2

Torture is mentioned in this chapter. Nothing graphic

* * *

Lucas wiped a hand across his face and shook his head. "Harry, I… we dated… I loved her, I still love her. How can she not be real, you're not making any sense. I don't know want what game this is, Harry. But it's going to stop, now." Lucas snapped out angrily. "Maya is in trouble, and I need you to help me get her out of it."

"Lucas, you were tortured extensively while you were in prison," Harry said, ignoring Lucas' outburst. "Your interrogators would have uncovered John Bateman. They would have used that knowledge to keep you loyal to them. They would have released you much sooner if they had that kind of hold over you, if they knew what kind of man John Bateman was."

Lucas rubbed his forehead as the pain throbbing in his temples intensified.

"Think, Lucas," Harry appealed, reaching across the table to imprison one of Lucas' wrists in a vice like grip. "There was no Maya Lahan at Leeds University."

"But I searched her on the database. You've just confirmed what I found." Lucas replied in growing frustration.

"Who did you know whose birthday is on 29th September?" Harry asked earnestly, his grip loosening on Lucas' wrist. "It was her, not this Maya that you dated at University. She was your first serious girlfriend. You told me about her, Lucas. You drifted apart when she started her residency at Bart's. Come on, man, think! They kept the information the same, to reduce any flags it may throw up in your subconscious. They just changed her location, changed her name to the one you had been told to recognise."

Lucas wrenched his wrist from Harry's grip and dug the heel of both palms against his eyes, his fingers digging into his scalp.

"They? Who are they, Harry?" Lucas replied, anguish lacing his tone. "I don't know who you mean." He pulled his hands away from his face.

Before him Harry had placed a photograph that had been in the suitcase that Edwards had given to Lucas on the bridge. Lucas reached out a trembling hand to drag it closer. It was a photograph of him and Maya, but it wasn't Maya in the picture. The woman smiling up at him was tall and slender, her dark brown skin colour contrasting with his pale white. Long black hair cascaded down her back, her eyes sparkling with happiness.

"This is the original," Harry said. "The ones in the suitcase Edwards gave to you were photo shopped. They were very well done," Harry conceded. "This one," Harry tapped the photograph, "is still on the University of Leeds photography club's website. I expect the others they used were just as easy to find."

"Christine Owino," Lucas stated, recalling his first true love. He'd enjoyed University, free from his parents rules. Forging his own place in the world. Christine taught him how to love, and to be loved. They were both inexperienced sexually and they had learned together how to reach the heights of pleasure. He smiled as he brushed a gentle thumb over her image. "She had seven brothers …," he trailed off as pain stabbed at his temples again. The pain slicing through his brain like white hot knives. He squeezed his eyes shut, as he fought to control the agony. "Christ!" He clutched his head as images flashed through his mind, tearing and fragmenting. Sliding away like smoke, before solidifying into terrifying reality . He didn't see or hear Harry stand up and call out his name in alarm.

 _"What is your name?" The question is in English, but with a heavy Russian accent._

 _"Lucas North."_

 _Pain slices through him. His muscles cramping painfully as electricity courses through his body. He can feel his heart thumping too fast in his chest. He can even hear it over his screams._

 _The pain stops as suddenly as it started. He slumps in the chair he is tied down in. He can't help but tug at the wrist restraints, desperate to be free, uncaring that he bruises and tears the flesh. The leather strap across his chest restricts his breathing as he tries to gulp in air, his heart still beating too fast._

 _"Who is this?"_

 _A hand grabs his hair and yanks his head up. A photograph of a young woman is thrust into view. Lucas tries to shake his head, but the grip on his hair is too tight._

 _"I don't know," he answers honestly. His voice hoarse._

 _His head is released, but is brutally punched in the stomach. He can't double over because of the chest strap and it bites into him, making breathing even harder._

 _"Her name is Maya. Maya Lahan." he is informed. "You love her very much. You were at University together."_

 _Lucas can't recall ever meeting anyone of that name, certainly not at uni._

 _"What is your name?"_

 _"Lucas..."_

 _A fist to his jaw. His teeth tearing into the inside of his cheek. The taste of blood._

 _"Your name is John. John Bateman. Why do you persist with this Lucas North lie? What is your name?"_

 _"Luc..."_

 _Electricity surges through him again. He shakes in uncontrolled agony._

 _"John!" He manages to scream out. The electricity stops._

 _"What is your name?_

 _"John."_

 _"John who?"_

 _"Bateman. John Bateman," he hoarsely whispers out._

 _"Good." The voice sounds pleased. A gentle hand pats his sweat-slick shoulder. A moment later a tin mug his pressed to his lips. He drinks greedily. The cold water soothes his burning throat._

 _"Who is this?" The photograph again._

 _"What is your name?"_

 _"Where did you meet Vaughn Edwards?"_

 _"Where did you plant the bomb?"_

 _"Who is this?"_

 _"You lied to Harry."_

 _"Your murdered Lucas North."_

 _"Where did you bury him?"_

 _"What is your name?"_

"Bateman. My name is John Bateman."

Lucas flinched as a hand touched his shoulder.

"Bateman. John Bateman," he repeated louder, desperate to avoid any more pain.

"Lucas. It's Harry. You're in London. I need you to snap out of it."

The voice sounded like Harry's.

"I'm right here. Next to you."

Lucas opened eyes he hadn't realised were shut. The dark concrete walls of the Russian interrogation cell gave way to a large bright warehouse, it's plasterboard walls stained and peeling, tall windows covered in dust and cobwebs. Lucas realised he was sat on the floor in a corner, his back pressed against the wall. His arms were tightly wrapped round his knees. He turned his head to the left and saw Harry sat beside him, his hand still gently wrapped around Lucas' shoulder.

"Harry?"

"Welcome back," Harry replied. Although he smiled, concern coloured his words.


	3. Chapter 3

Thank so much for all the lovely reviews and messages. I certainly hope this final chapter puts everything right ;)

* * *

"Flashback?" Lucas asked. He was surprised how raw his voice sounded. How much it hurt to swallow. He flushed at the thought that he had been screaming, caught up in a returning memory. He looked at the table and followed the marks in the dusty floor. There was only one set of footprints – Harry's. Lucas had crawled to the corner.

"One of many to come, I expect," Harry said with regret. "It's going to take some time to undo what the Russians did. You are, unfortunately, going to have to relive everything as your true memories return. We'll get you through this, Lucas. You won't go through it alone," Harry promised.

"Russians? Not Chinese?"

"No. Edwards is a known favourite mercenary of the Russians. Albany is something very much worth planning and waiting years for the right opportunity to try and obtain." Harry shifted closer to Lucas and in a rare display of physical comfort, put his arm around Lucas shoulders. Lucas was too emotionally drained to deny it and leaned into the one-armed hug.

"I still love her. I...I still feel the need to rescue her," Lucas confessed. "She's not real though, is she?"

"No. Maya Lahan is a Russian operative. She may well have been a sleeper agent for sometime. It will take time for your feelings for her to disappear. Once you've got back all your true memories, you'll feel nothing for her," Harry promised.

"Harry, I went to see Malcolm. He gave me what I thought was Albany. His house was empty when I went back. I was going … to hurt him, to make him tell me where Albany was," Lucas straighten up and leant his head against the wall, closing his eyes in an attempt to hide the anguish that ran through him.

"Malcolm will understand. You know he will. You've know him for years," Harry reassured.

"The American technician – the young girl, Daniella. I… I let her die, Harry," Lucas quietly confessed. He brought his head forward and then smacked it hard back against the wall. Harry withdrew his arm. Lucas had no idea why he had just told Harry that. Such a confession could see him charged and convicted of murder, manslaughter at the very least, and he would end up in a dreaded cell, his freedom once again curtailed.

"She died as a consequence of an ambush by enemies of both the United States of America and the United Kingdom," Harry stated.

Lucas turned to look at him. "I let her bleed to death, Harry. I was going to call for an ambulance, but she mentioned that she had heard me talking to Malcolm about Albany. So I just let her die," Lucas lowered his head to rest on his knees, hiding his shame.

"She died as a consequence of an ambush by enemies of both the United States of America and the United Kingdom," Harry repeated. Lucas lifted his head and looked at Harry. "How long did it take her to bleed out?"

"Four or five minutes," Lucas replied sadly.

"Even if you had called for an ambulance, it would have been doubtful that they would have arrived in time."

"We don't know that, Harry. They may have saved her," Lucas countered.

"Yes, they may have," Harry agreed. "And you will have to live with that, Lucas. Officially, this matter is closed. You will have to do whatever your conscious dictates, Lucas. I would suggest you ease it by continuing to save lives."

"I can stay at MI5?" Lucas tried to keep the hope from his voice. He'd tried desperately to keep his life as Lucas North from slipping through his fingers, caught in the middle by his loyalty to Harry and his desire to bury John Bateman forever.

With the elusive Albany file proving to be well protected, Lucas had known he would have had to betray Harry and MI5 to give Edwards what he wanted and for Lucas to be with Maya. No, it would have been John that would be with Maya. Lucas would have had to die, like he had all those years ago. Or so Lucas had believed. It was John Bateman that was the fake life. Tortured into believing he was a murderer and a terrorist. The knowledge hidden away in his subconscious until it became useful to extract and to be used and to destroy him in the process.

"Yes," Harry said without hesitation. Lucas sagged with relief. "However, once we've brought in Edwards and Lahan you will be going on medical leave until such time as you are signed back mentally fit. So I suggest you cooperate with the psychologist." Harry levered himself up off the floor and brushed the dust from his suit.

Lucas stared up at Harry. He had another confession. "Stephen Owen?"

"Yes, I knew he couldn't have accessed the information. His entire department verified that he was within their sight at the time of the alleged log in. He's currently on administrative leave. He'll return without a stain on his record and the grateful thanks of MI5 for helping to bring down a Russian spy ring." Harry held his hand out, Lucas grasped it and pulled himself up.

"We need to bring Edwards and Lahan in," Harry began, as he walked back to the table. He turned to look at Lucas who had slowly followed him. "Hopefully we will be able to get more names from them...Lucas?"

"With all the moving around Edwards has done, the knife I put in his thigh has probably nicked the artery. He could be dead by now. Without him Maya will have no option but to abandon their mission and disappear," Lucas said as he sat down. He rubbed his hands over his face. "If Edwards is dead, we could make it look like I'm ready to go rogue. Sell Albany to them..."

"No, Lucas." Harry firmly cut the younger man off. "You're in no condition to run an operation. You'll contact Edwards and arrange an exchange; Albany for Maya."

"And if Edwards is dead?"

"We'll bring Maya in." Harry picked up the photographs and paperwork from the table and placed them back in the file. He moved to stand in front of Lucas, placing a hand on the slump shoulders. "Let's get this done, Lucas. Then you can rest and heal."

Lucas stood up. "Thank you, Harry. For everything." Harry smiled and patted his shoulder. Lucas couldn't believe that his nightmare was finally over. He had frantically been trying to find a way out, to destroy John Bateman and keep Lucas North. Not once had it occurred to him that Bateman had been created inside his own mind during his eight years of hell in prison. Thank God Harry was old-school enough to think of it.

He walked out of the warehouse a step behind Harry and into the sunlight, into a future he didn't think he could ever have.


End file.
